


Truth or Drink

by Lifotni



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: A Night in Playing Truth or Drink, And Not Following the Rules at All, Brief Interlude Into Psychology, Drinking, F/M, Just Optimus and Elita Having a Good Time Y'all, Sexual References, Which is a Given
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-31 08:55:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21443572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lifotni/pseuds/Lifotni
Summary: Optimus and Elita spend a night in playing a Truth or Drink, and as per their custom, they abide by the rules not at all.
Relationships: Elita One/Optimus Prime
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Round One

**Author's Note:**

> These questions are taken from the card game that CUT, a Youtube Channel, has put out on the website playtruthordrink.com. The videos they do of couples playing it are delightful, so I highly recommend watching a few episodes. And so do Elita and Optimus.

“Alright,” Elita began, taking their datapads off their chargers, “we’ve sixty questions each, so let’s hope that’ll be enough.” 

Optimus was dragging one of their chairs to place it on the other side of their living space’s table. He didn’t bother with getting it exactly parallel, the purpose only being so that they were facing each other. 

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he said, eyeing the bottle of engex on the table, the pitcher of mid-grade, and the two pairs of complementary glasses that had been nonchalantly placed on either side. 

He sat back in his chair, leaving their couch for his partner. 

They’d taken a nap together just for this, recharging themselves in the middle of their orn off so to stay alert for however late their game went. 

“‘Lita. You coming, love?” he began to ask, looking up when he didn’t hear her peds approaching. 

She stood only a pace away, arching a brow at him. “Primus, you trying to come for my brand?” Elita teased, rounding the table to sit down. She handed him the datapad in her servo, having just finished programming it.

“What brand?” Optimus humored, audial antennas flicking on their own accord out of faux sentients. He turned on the datapad and clicked a file labeled “TRUTH OR DRINK”.

“Hearing impairments. I know I’m a quiet walker, but damn- alright, whatever, let’s get this show on the road, _ partner _.” 

He sighed audibly. “Please, for the love of… Don’t say it like that.” 

Elita sat back on the sofa to regard him, her arms crossing over her chest. “What’d ya mean, _ partner _? Ain’t favorin’ my new accent?” 

“I’d run it by Ironhide a few more times,” Optimus advised, smiling to himself regardless. “Should we select random order or is there an option for _ best friends _.” 

She sat up when her partner bit that last couple of words on their way from his voice box. “Do not even tell me you’re still hot about that, sir.” 

“I’m not!” he quickly shook his helm, shrugging, not looking up at her while he poured the mid-grade into the chaser glasses. “I just… I _ adore _ it when my partner, the femme I’ve been with for the past fifty-thousand vorns or so tells mechs who come out of Primus-knows-where to talk with her that she’s there with her _ friend _.” 

“I’m not even getting into - it was two weeks ago. And Chromia was there too.” She picked up her datapad, wearing off the urge to laugh. “That guy knew you were there.” 

“_You weren’t talking about Chromia _ _ … _ Yes, ma’am, I understand. Duly… noted.” 

“Do not-” Elita laughed and caught his optics when he glanced up, a smirk on stretching the scars along his upper lip. “Alright, my love, hit me up. There is an old couple option there at the bottom. The one that says ‘Couples’. ”

“Yes, I see it. Here we go,” he tapped the corner of the pad and a moment later, straightened in his seat. His optics widened and Elita chuckled through her smiling denta. “Oh… Are they all like this?” 

“Hit me.” 

His servo was reaching for their engex bottle already. “Have you ever interfaced in public?” 

Elita snorted. “The hell are you pouring a shot? _ Yes _. With you.” 

Optimus filled their empty glasses and recapped the bottle. “Because I know we’re going to answer all of these questions instead of opting for taking a shot.” 

She took her shot and lifted it towards him, prompting him to clink their drinks together. “This’ll be fun. Chill out.” 

Optimus lifted his index finger to point at her before throwing back the engex and swallowing with a repressed grimace. “Give me three more of those and come back to me.” 

Elita did the same and took a moment to savor the burning down her throat. “That’s good.” She set the glass down. “And so it's your turn, big mech.” 

Optimus handed her the datapad and settled in his seat. 

She tapped a button. “Oh, this is fitting. ‘Do you see us being friends in the next ten years?’” 

He smiled wryly. “Well, I am your _ best friend _. So I would imagine so.” 

Elita handed him the datapad back. “Good answer.” 

_ Tap _

“Hm, ‘When was the last time you lied to me?’ and ‘What was the lie?’” 

Elita looked off to her left, expression conveying she had delved into though. "Last night when I told you I was going to leave my office early." 

"You didn't?" 

"No. I left later than I usually do." 

"I was able to guess something may've come up." 

Elita shrugged her armored shoulder pauldrons and took the datapad. "Magnus and I got to talking, so there's all my dirty laundry." 

He knitted his brow, suddenly imagining a string of human clothing like he had once seen spanning between apartment buildings. "What does that mean?" 

"It's from a song from Earth. The… someone from a band with a bird name. The Eagles! He talks about the media always being up in peoples’ business." 

"So as in a dirty secret?" 

Elita bounced her first digit at him. "Yes. Okay, next question.” _ Tap _. “Oh, brace yourself, sweetspark." 

"Bracing."

"'Do you think you have more or less sex than your neighbor'"? 

"Oh no…" Optimus sighed, optics rolling upward. "I'm assuming that'll concern Ironhide and Chromia, yes?" 

"Eh, might as well." 

He took a moment longer in thought. "Yes. I apologize sincerely, but they probably do." 

Elita tossed her servos up. "No, I'll agree with you there. Hit me with another- wait, let's drink to that one." 

"Thank _ you, _ma'am." 

He poured their glasses and they met them together again before tossing them back. 

"Next one." 

_ Tap. _

Optimus hummed. "I’m confident I already know this, but ‘Describe your first real kiss’, then ‘Describe your last kiss’.” 

“Mm, yeah, you do know that one,” Elita said. “The femme I was dating while at Nyon’s art academy. The first one.”

“First one?” he inquired sharply, tilting his helm. 

“The first _ academy _,” Elita drawled sarcastically, prompting him to give an understanding nod. “They’re opening a new one now, didn’t you know?” 

“That I do. Heard someone I know is going to be there.” 

Elita gave him a crooked smile. “That she is. But yeah, that was my first kiss. Your turn.”

He lifted the datapad, showing her the question. “Ma’am, the question was to describe it. Then describe your last.” 

She pursed her lips, thinking about the following words. “Alright, well we dated for a grand total of exactly two decacyles, but it was after our first one and I had walked her home. I knew it was probably going to happen, so I was anxious during the entire route to her place, but she kissed me at her door.” 

Optimus listened with his chin propped up on his hand, mimicking a pose that Elita could recall one of Earth’s many artists creating a sculpture out of. “It was a little chaste at first but we involved some glossa eventually.”

“Alright.” 

“T’was before I was divine with it.” 

“Mhm.” 

Elita chuckled. “You were the one who asked for details!” 

His helm fell as he held back his laughter. “I didn’t even _ say _ anything.” 

“I could _ feel _it. You’re over there getting your jealous-o-meter up at the speed of light.” 

He snorted. “Got me there.” 

“I know I do. Next - wait, no. And my last kiss was… two nights ago after I rocked your world. Alright, next question.” 

“It’s your turn.” He handed her the datapad and filled their glasses again. “Try to keep up.”

“You better pace yourself," she said, voice coated in a faux warning. "We’ve a lot of these still to go.”

"That was my second, ma'am." Optimus set the glass down. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” 

_ Tap _

Elita tapped it again. “Nope. That one isn’t happening.” 

He wasn’t going to ask. 

“Alright, this one may be interesting. ‘How comfortable are we with one another? What things would make us uncomfortable?'"

He sat up further in his seat. “I would hope - I’d _ dearly _ hope that we are comfortable around each other. But I would say that is due to how _ attentive _ we both have always been concerning one another’s boundaries.” 

She filled his glass back up as she listened, nodding in agreement. “We’ve put an immense amount of work into that.” 

“Yes, we have. But if one of us were to ever cross one of those boundaries, of course, that would make the other uncomfortable. I like to think we’ve made each other very aware of those boundaries, however.” 

“To delve into that further, that could be a possible issue others may face; thinking that there ought not to be boundaries between them.” 

“That's very plausible. We’ve seen enough fail and… I can’t think of an articulate way to say it at the moment-” 

“It's a lack of communication.”

He lifted his glass towards her. “Yes. Even better.” 

She flashed her denta. “That’s why you’ve got me, love.” 

“One of the many.” 

“Aww," she smiled, tilting her helm. "That was cute. Come’ere.” 

Optimus’s optics softened when she leaned towards him. He met her over their table halfway for a -surprisingly wet- kiss. 

“I like you,” she said, sitting back down and licking her lip. 

“Love you too,” he replied, taking the datapad when she held it out. “That was a good question.” 

“It was! These have all been pretty good, though we could’ve done without thinking about Mia and ‘Hide, but _ what can ya do _?”

Elita picked up her glass, _ clinked _ it to his, and swallowed it in two goes, prompting her mate to finished his. 

_ Tap. _

Optimus adjusted his legs. “Be truthful with me, ‘What’s the most annoying thing I do without realizing it?’”

She set her glass down. “When you… Well, you don’t really do this anymore for evident reasons, and I know it was just due to you needing a moment to transition, but when you’d talk to me with that same tone and voice,” she gestured to her throat, “you use to speak as though we were in a meeting or speaking to another officer.” 

He set his elbows on his knees again. “Yes, I noticed. It helped that you would tell me when I was speaking to you in that manner, though I would know when you’d look at me while we would be talking. Or the tone you would take on.” 

She nodded and kneaded one of her fists into her open palm. “Hey, listen. I know a part of it was just how you were taught to speak, your dialect, but when we’re together I want you to be able to mellow - feel relaxed - and it was obvious you weren’t being able to do that. I had different methods of knowing when you were feeling taut, but your vocals are the easiest way…But you’ve really been working at it and I can tell. So I thank you. I’m proud of you.” 

Optimus searched her face. “You helped me immensely, love.” 

“You’ve helped me too. Immensely.” 

_ Tap. _

Elita took in a deep inhale. “Alright, what’s next… Oh, here we go. I think I know this one. ‘What is your favorite sex position?’”

“Missionary-“ 

“And I was right.” 

He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I like being able to see you. And when one of us has our legs around the other. I feel we’re the closest in that position.” 

“I know you do,” she smiled warmly. “It’s one of my favorites too.” 

Optimus took the datapad. “So then that begs the question asking what your favorite is?” 

Elita gazed back at him as she thought. “I don’t know what its called. It’s similar to missionary, but my legs - well, more like the backs of my knees are on your forearms. You know what I’m saying?” 

Optimus nodded a bit more enthusiastically than he intended. “Yes, I know. We tend to get quite… Words are failing me tonight.”

“Rough? Make me not want to walk in the morning?” 

He snorted and rolled his optics once again. “Yes. That is _ exactly _what I was about to say. How did you know?” 

“I’m your partner. It’s what I do, _ darlin’ _.” 

_ Tap _

"'If I had _ synesthesia, _what color would I make you feel?' That sounds like something psychological."

Elita nodded. "It's a human psychological condition, but we have a play on it too. They should've changed the word." 

"What is it?" 

"It's …" she glanced towards their ceiling. "It's when someone perceives a stimulus with two or more senses. So, let's say someone with _ synesthesia _ were to see a light - a yellow one. They might say that they can taste that light, it _ tasting _ different than what a _ blue _ light does 'cause sources of light are perceived by two senses." 

Optimus listened with narrowing optics.

"You're confused." 

"No, I just don't see you would answer this question." 

Elita lifted her legs to sit cross-legged on the couch. "Well that's the more proven form of it, but there is another where someone might relate certain things with a sound or color even though it doesn't have a thing to do with either. So, someone might see the number eleven and think of it as also being... green or something. But they might do that with people too and I think that's what the question is asking." She shrugged. "It's a pretty strange condition, but we all do it to an extent. Some just more than others." 

"Do you do that?" 

Elita shrugged. "I used to, but I think kids are more prone to it while their processor is making sense of the would… and I think people are too quick to assume it as being to do with _ auras _ and other such phenomenon. We all do it, but again, just some more than others… Anyway, that's my psychology spiel. " 

Optimus's optics danced about the table as he listened. "I think of you as being a purple. _ Pastel _ and on the verge of being blue. Bright purple." 

Elita's brow jumped. "That's interesting. I think of you as indigo. Kind of a muted one though." 

"Hm. Those are good colors together." 

"Maybe you should get repainted in them," she jested. 

Optimus handed her the datapad. "Hmmmm. I think not." 

_ Tap _

“Oh damn, this one’s… Alright, ‘How would childhood you describe you now? Would they like you?’” 

“Oh.” 

“I know. We’ll both answer them if you’d like” 

Optimus nodded and settled back in his chair, lacing his digits together. “I’ve thought about this some and I think my younger self would be torn.” 

Elita leaned in, making him her focal point. “How so?” 

Optimus wrapped his hands together. “He wouldn’t... I don’t think my younger self could conceptualize where time would take him."

She nodded. "I think the same." 

"Concerning yourself?" 

"Yeah. I think she'd… She'd be a lot of things." 

"She's be proud of you." 

"And he'd be proud of you."

_ Tap _

"Let's take a break after this one," he said. "It'll end us on a high note. 'If we were both single-" 

"Oh no." 

"-would you date me?'"

Elita giggled, spurring her partner to smile. "Oh, that's not what I thought it'd be." 

"What did you think?" 

She shrugged. "I don't know. But _ yes _, of course I would, love. That is if one of us were to ever manage to ask the other 'out'." 

Optimus chuckled. "Why say it like that?" 

"Because I genuinely can't envision us going on a first date. Can you?"

"Absolutely not. It's a good thing I've got you."

"Damn right." 


	2. Round Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super huge thank you to Lalalita for her question! As well as to my partner Plenoptic07 for the ones he provided <3
> 
> BTW there will be OCs mentioned (I guess) became some questions ask for situation that have literally nothing to go by in canon. So I make my own.  
This was so fun to write and I hope you enjoy~

“You can’t be comfortable,” Optimus said apprehensively, becoming preoccupied with Elita’s position over him rather than reciprocating the attention he was receiving to his neck. 

Elita muttered something nonsensical, words sounding something along the lines of, “Sweetspark, shut up,” as she spoke them between the kisses under his jaw. 

Their couch was the largest they could find within reason, but the width still did not allow for Elita to straddle her mech’s hips with her knees on either side. She had a ped on the floor instead, using it to keep her balanced.

He coaxed her up, palm to her cheek, and features of his face began to lax when their optics met. 

“What?” she murmured, leaning back down to kiss his forehelm. 

Optimus’s other servo was roaming her, skimming the backs of his digits along her spinal strut while she was laying over him. Their noses met when she came to look back at him, and the brief contact provoked another kiss.

Their game was still at the ready on the table, the datapad having just been clicked off for the duration of this interlude; a break from the questions that had a tendency to explore deeper topics than either of them had been expecting. Elita had encouraged him to her, sitting back on their couch to give him room to take advantage of the invitation she’d given by patting her thighs. He had taken it unwaveringly, keeping her gaze in his as he set himself on her lap. 

They both tasted like engex, yet their glossas took the first moments of the kiss that followed Optimus’s aft meeting his partner’s thighs to reacquaint with the flavor. One of his servos gripped the back of the couch to keep him steady while the other found the back of Elita’s helm. 

It was a dose of electric when her grip found his waist, the strength in her servos conveying her want to keep him in place. 

Elita's answer to how her first kiss had been crossed mind when she dragged the tip of her glossa along his lower lip. Chaste and lacking skill. Presumably unmeasured. Far too fueled by intention. 

Not like this. 

He found himself getting encouraged onto his back next, and to her guidance, he abided. Optimus steadied his breath as his lover found herself sat on his hips, one leg off the couch for the sake of their limited room. 

Elita felt him smile into their kiss when she bit his lip, nipping it shortly to earn herself a response. His reply was a _ clap _ to her aft, prompting a sharp inhale between her denta. 

He ducked his helm and encouraged her up so to fit his mouth beneath her jaw. There was a fuel line - rather it was a collection of them - there that even upon his most minute of affection would still evoke from her a response. He was not going to docile about finding it, however, knowing exactly its location and grazing his denta along its length. 

She bit her lip, shuttering her optics when he aimed directly for a particularly overzealous erogenous zone. It sent a shiver down her back when he decided to _ bite _, denta closing on the first layer of protective casing. 

It tingled. The energy mounting from the deliberate contact sparking autonomous reactions within them. 

“Love you,” she heard him say before he began to pull away. Her only warning before her servos flew back to hold the tops of his when she was suddenly lifted up.

“The hell are you-!” 

Optimus sat them up on the couch and kept her in his grasp till he could stand and place her on the sofa. 

“I would like to finish this game sometime tonight,” he said, straightening himself and gesturing to the table. “I said we would take a ‘break’.” 

Elita steadied herself, planting both peds back on the floor. She felt her neck, soothing the place he'd bitten. If that bruised… Eh, she could attach her collar armor tomorrow. "Oh I swear, you better lay me down tonight. That was rude, sir."

"I'm going to, but it’s your turn,” he said, handing his partner the datapad. 

She stared back at him, optics narrowed as she took it and blindly turned it on. “I’m furious.” 

“No, you’re not.”

She looked down to read the next question, a wry smile on her lips. “I’m enraged. Okay, the love of my life, next question.” _Tap._ “Alright, this one is cute, too. ‘Of all the things we do together, what is the_ best_ thing we do together?’”

“Interface.” 

“Insightful.” 

Optimus waved his hand dismissively. “I’m jesting. No, how we make love is certainly near the top-”

“Heh.” 

“-Stop. But, how we work together. How we trade ideas and constructively criticize each other till we arrive at a plan.” 

“Constructive criticism…” Elita nodded while in the process of refilling their glasses. “I feel we’re more confident in any decision when we can back it with each other’s opinions.” 

“Absolutely. It was even comforting when you would disapprove of something I proposed. Perhaps because you doing so would show that I could go to you and get an authentic perspective that wasn’t…” 

“Cajoling.” 

He huffed. “You know exactly whom I’m thinking of.” 

She put her servos up, palms facing the ceiling after she traded the datapad. 

They wordlessly agreed to drink to that, taking another shot together before continuing. 

_ Tap _

Optimus let as close to a smirk as his features would allow come across his face. “‘Have I gotten _ sexier _ since you’ve known me?’”

Elita sat up as if she’d been struck, gaveling the shot glass down on the table. “_ Primus, _yes!” Her pale optics brightened. “Love, you don’t even know. You don’t. You think you do, but you don’t.”

He set his chin atop of closed fist propped upon his knee. “Know what?” 

She looked him up and down before her gaze tracked about his face. “You don’t know how beautiful you are and I hate it.” 

He set the datapad on the table. “It’s good I didn’t get that question.” 

Elita picked it up. “Tell me all about it tonight.” 

“Planning on it.” 

_ Tap _

Elita read the question over. “Optimus?” 

“Yes, ma’am?” 

“‘Have you ever had a threesome. Would you?”

Optimus sipped from his mid-grade. “Yes and I have and I think the question is asking if I would again?” 

Elita just smirked. 

“No, because in every aspect of interface that is physical, mental, or spiritual, I can’t - I am unable to handle the thought of someone else with you. Or not you be the one I’m with.” 

She sighed, willing to find amusement in her partner’s developing frankness if not for the authenticity of that particular answer. “I know. I know, ‘Rion” 

“I know you do, and I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head in the midst of a sigh. “I hate that I’m so swift to jealousy.” 

“No,” she countered. “I know why it happens and that is nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry that I tease you about it.” 

Optimus pursed his lips, wetting them before reaching for their bottle again. “Would you like to just pour some of this into the mid-grade?” 

Elita took a moment to consider. “Yeah, let’s just do that.” 

“How many shots?” 

“One…” 

He waited, uncapped engex bottle at the ready. 

“Two. Put in two.” 

“That’s what I thought.” He measured the amount he poured into their chaser glasses with his optic, and Elita snorted into her servo when the amount was certainly a touch more than two shots. She put some more mid-grade into hers, and when she offered, he let her do the same with his. 

_ Tap _

“Elita?” 

“Yes, sir?” 

Optimus paused to reach the question to himself once more before orating. “Elita, ‘What is the most comforting sound in the world?’” 

He watched her as she thought, the focus of her optics seeming to be on his own chest. “There are a lot of them, but the last time I thought about it was the other orn when you were showering.” 

“When I’m showering?” 

“I was in our berth and you were leaving early so I was able to just listen. And I know when you’re about to get out, so I got up and made us some energon… I don’t know. All the quiet morning sounds.”

Optimus’s quizzical mien evaporated at her explanation, leaving a warm smile in its stead. “I love you.” 

Elita scoffed. “You’re getting tipsy. But I love you too.” 

_ Tap _

…

_ Tap _

Elita brought her knees up again to sit cross-legged and a crooked smile graced her as her read the question. “‘What was the moment you knew you were in love with me?’ You’ve told me this.” 

Optimus laughed softly to himself at the question and pressed his servos flat together. “When… When you punched that guy at Maccadam’s after he touched your aft.” 

“Oh sweetie,” Elita said with faux exasperation. “That wasn’t a touch. He smacked me. And he ought to have counted his stars I was the one to take him out.” 

“Mhm,” Optimus hummed, preferring not to spend a moment more remembering the exact moment. “But that was it. I think I already had an idea long before, but that was the moment I realized it… The _ reaction _I had when that happened was beyond wanting to defend a friend. It was wanting to defend you even though I knew you could handle the situation well and fine.”

“You never tried to coddle me.” 

“_ Primus _ no. No, I was able to figure out quickly that you being treated with even an ounce of fragility was what you hated most. That moment was just an example to cement it.” 

_ Tap _

Optimus took a gulp from his mid-grade - now laced and tingling as it went down his throat. “‘How do you know when I’m _ mad _ at you?’ I don’t get mad at you-” 

“Yes, you do.” Elita thought for a moment. “And you know I love you.” 

“I do.”

“But you are so _ fragging _ petty.”

“I know.” 

“Next question. Give it over” 

_ Tap _

Elita simpered. “Sir, ‘What is your wildest sexual fantasy?’” 

Optimus narrowed his optics towards her. “That’s loaded.” 

“Only if you make it.”

He sat back in his chair and made sure to keep his gaze on her - between her pale optics that were looking back at him half-lidded and adoring. “I don’t know how you’re going to take this.” 

“Sweetspark, just tell me. I know you don’t have anything going on up there,” she pointed to her own helm, “that I’d be opposed to.” 

Optimus wrung his hands, not sure how to for his words. And when he stilled, “Bonding with you,” he said, and he dared to keep speaking even when her optics widened, “-while we’re trying for a child. I think about that on occasion.” 

His optics fell from her as he reached for his glass, missing when her mouth fell agape. 

“Really?” she asked him, voice softening. 

He took a sip. “Just on occasion.” 

Elita was centered on him and her features conveyed how stirring the small revelation was. “Ever while we’re making love?” 

He set his glass down and looked up to her again. “Sometimes. When I’m kissing your chest while we’re lovemaking.” 

She set her chin in her palm. “You know I’m going to bond with you right?” 

Optimus’s optics kept their focus in hers. “Yes, I do. I know.” 

“But that wasn’t wild at all, love.” 

He chuckled at that. “Then what is yours?” 

Elita paused, then, “I think about us tying the other up sometimes.” 

Optimus laughed again, this time exasperatedly as he covered his optics with his palm. “Put that on the list then.” 

“The list? Alright so should I put it after -” 

“Don’t-! Even finish that.” 

Elita’s laughter joined with his. 

_ Tap _

Optimus read over the question after they took a moment to compose themselves. “Alright… Love, you listening?” 

She nodded into her palm. “Hit me, ‘Rion.” 

“Alright. It says, ‘Describe your first time having sex.’ and it says ‘Include every _ cringey _ detail.’ Well, that last part was unnecessary.” 

Elita looked up. “Oh. Yeah, no, mine wasn’t cringey, thank goodness.” 

Optimus sat back in his chair to listen, already knowing the story. 

“I suppose it helps to be with someone who knows what they’re doing, but no. I was with Casila and we stopped for the night in the middle of nowhere. We could see Tarn’s light pollution in the distance, but it was still the middle of nowhere... I don’t have anything negative to say, it just happened. He was - he was sweet with me and we just enjoyed it. He made sure I enjoyed every moment and it was just,” she shrugged, “good. Just how it ought to be.” 

“I’m glad it was,” Optimus spoke, being sure to convey he was being genuine in his tone. “He was a good mech.” 

She smiled warmly. “Yeah, he was…. Alright, I’m running low over here,” she tapped her glass. “Last one?” 

Her partner nodded. “Yes, it’s getting late. And I still need to amend myself and lay you down.” 

Elita snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “That you do! Make it up to me for that public indecency you exposed me to in the confines of my own home.” 

_ Tap _

Optimus finished his glass. “Hit me.”

“Hey, no stealing my line,” she teased. “So, 'What _ advice _ would you give your younger self when we first started dating?'” 

Optimus didn’t require a moment of thought for their finale. “I’d have told him to have asked you on a date sooner.”

Elita shut off the datapad and set it on their table. The city had grown quiet outside and the only luminant in their apartment now the single fixture on in the hall before their door and the moonlight coming in from the window. 

“Dating would've been pretty difficult then... But it happened when it needed to,” she said, slowly getting to her peds and reaching out to him. 

"I know." He took her servo and, after planting his peds on the floor, he straightened himself upright.

She began to walk them towards their berth and he sighed, following her every step of the way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3


End file.
